


Soft

by HisAngelThursday



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bondage, Bottom Dean, Dom Castiel, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Dom Castiel, Gentle Sex, Gentleness, Handcuffs, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Sub Dean, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 19:57:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13418538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HisAngelThursday/pseuds/HisAngelThursday
Summary: Spanking and paddling are fun, but it's not what either of them needs when he risks his life out of his own lack of self-worth.Tonight, Castiel dominates him with gentleness, telling and showing him how much he's worth.  Dean breaks.





	Soft

Until recently, Castiel had a bit of a conundrum on his hands.

It was no secret to him that Dean frequently put his own life in unnecessary danger, perhaps born out of his own self-loathing or the firmly ingrained message of “protect others at ALL COSTS” his father had so thoroughly impressed upon him.

The problem was, this was one of the rules they had agreed upon since they’d begun their private arrangement. By this standard, Dean would need to be punished the evening afterwards, which would usually involve being spanked or paddled and then fucked roughly, with the option of a denied orgasm for particularly severe offenses.

Buy in cases such as these, what would that accomplish except driving home Dean’s inferiority complex even more? 

Now, he’s very pleased with himself for coming up with a solution.

“Arms out,” he states, and waits as Dean stoically complies before shackling his wrists to the headboard with leather-lined handcuffs.

He pauses to retrieve a ballgag, holding it out where Dean can see it. 

“Open,” he commands. 

This time, Dean falters. The cuffs are one thing, but the ballgag prevents him from snarking or protesting or brushing of Castiel’s words. It effectively removes his only form of recourse.

“Cas, please –”

“Open. Or your punishment will be prolonged all night. I do not need sleep, unless you have forgotten.” 

Dean swallows, but obeys. 

Castiel smiles, watching appreciatively as his beautiful lips stretch around the large gag. “Good boy.”

Dean only whimpers, already knowing what’s in store for him. 

“You were disobedient today,” Cas murmurs, large hands smoothing over Dean’s restrained, bare torso. “You put yourself in danger. You acted as though your life had no meaning. Why would you do such a thing?”

Of course, he already knows. Dean was raised to believe his only purpose was to protect others, that his own life had no worth of its own. This little activity was hand-tailored to change that. 

“You are so precious to me, Dean,” he continues, leaning down to press a kiss to a hardening nipple. “To your brother. To your friends, your loved ones. To the world. We could not bear to lose you.” 

Dean’s being stoic for the time being, but that won’t last much longer. He’s already squirming slightly, uncomfortable at the praise. 

“You are so beautiful, Dean,” Cas says between kisses, working his way down the vulnerable chest. “Every freckle, every scar. I could heal them, but I do not. Such little blemishes only serve as proof of how strong you are, how much you have endured.” He kisses over a healed line of stitches, as if to prove his point. “They make you all the more beautiful.” 

Spanking and paddling are fun, and they have their place in his and Dean’s love life. But on nights like this, Cas could never help but notice that Dean accepted such punishment a little too eagerly, too willing to accept his place as a screw-up who deserved physical harm. 

Cas knew he couldn’t allow Dean to believe such things, but he also knew Dean’s behavior needed to be punished. So this solution was born.

“Every part of you is beautiful, Dean. The lush green forests of your eyes, the constellations of your freckles. Your features, chiseled by My Father like the work of a master artist. There is nothing about you I don’t love.”

Dean gives a low keen at this, the first sign his facade is cracking.

Physical punishment, Dean could take. Something that would assert his self-image, his belief that he was worthless, that he deserved nothing but pain. I believe he maintained in contradiction to rational thought at this point, considering his high regard in the world of hunters and literal blessing from God himself.

But to be restrained, powerless, and completely vulnerable, unable to protest while he’s cared for, told how beautiful he is, how important he is, how much he’s loved – Cas has yet to see Dean make it through a session without breaking down in tears.

“But what’s even more beautiful than your body is the soul it houses,” Castiel continues. “The brightest I have ever seen. I was awed by its beauty even as I held it close and raised it from Perdition.” He kisses the center of his chest, just over his heart. “I have loved it ever since, Dean Winchester, and I always ever shall.” 

Dean’s shaking now, and his eyes are damp. He’s making little sounds around the gag, futile attempts at protest, and Castiel knows he won’t hold out much longer.

“I will kiss each and every inch of you tonight, Dean,” Cas promises. “And then I’ll make love to you, gently and lovingly. I will care for you for the rest of your human life, and I will continue to care for your immortal soul in Heaven. Because I love you, Dean Winchester, and it what you deserve.”

And he keeps his promise.

He kisses his way down all of Dean’s body, focusing on the spots he knows he’s insecure about – every jagged scar, every healed-over knife wound or bullet hole, the soft layer of pudge just underneath his bellybutton that’s become slightly more prominent since he hit his thirties, every small splatter of freckles – and makes sure to tell him how much he loves each and every one.

He works him open, first with his fingers and then with his tongue, propping Dean’s hips up with a pillow for easier access. He goes on like this for over an hour, until his dick is hard and pulsing against his belly and he’s keening desperately.

He fucks him with the slow, steady rhythm of crashing waves, looking lovingly into teary green eyes and leaning forward occasionally to kiss the corner of his stretched-open mouth. 

It feels like an eternity before he empties his unnaturally hot seed inside of him, pressing kisses to Dean’s neck as he fucks him gently through his orgasm.

Afterwards, he thumbs away his tears and presses still more kisses to his eyelids and forehead. 

“Sssshhh, Dean, it’s over. We’re done for now,” he promises. “I’ll draw you a bath, and then you’ll be released. Would you like that?”

Dean, still sniffling and blinking away tears, nods his head. With some hesitation, he looks pointedly down at his ever-hard cock – unbeknownst to him (though he’s sure Dean suspects it) Cas has been using his doesn’t to ensure he doesn’t reach orgasm. 

Cas only smiles, and shakes his head. “Not tonight, my love. This is a punishment, after all.”


End file.
